ysabara
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2007
- Messages
- 104
Warning ~ some explicit (albeit edited) language.
The main character is both a prostitute and an assassain from the slums, so I believe the way he speaks is relevant to just who and what he is. He is going to accept a contract that should be a straightforward killing but he is in for a nasty surprise...
One thing I know about women…they’re all suckers for a pretty face. Don’t matter none how rough the inside is, long as it looks all bright and shiny on the outside. Bitches. All of em. Still, if it weren’t for them bitches I guess I wouldn’t be where I am now. Still be crawling around in the gutters of CharTown. Giving it up to any ******* who was bigger than me, or stronger.
See where my pretty face has got me now. I got my own house. Even got me a cook. Yeah, I get to eat whatever I want. Times were when all I used to dream about was food. I got money too, although sometimes I reckon there ain’t never gonna be enough money to let me forget…
That don’t matter. What I was then, it ain’t something I think about much. ‘Cept maybe when I’m alone in the dark. Anyroads, that don’t happen often. I ain’t alone much, if you take my drift. There’s always someone who wants to be f***ed. Always someone who wants somebody dead. So between the killing and the f***ing, I’m kept pretty busy. And it ain’t just women neither. There’s plenty of men who fancy a piece of me, ‘cept they have to pay triple my going rate to make me roll over for em. I don’t like nobody on top…makes me remember stuff I don’t want to remember…
So, f***ing’s okay, long as I get to be on top. And killing, I don’t pay that no never mind. That’s easier than f***ing. I was ten when I killed my first man. That’s one of them things I try not to remember…me kneeling in the dirt with his prick shoved right to the back of my throat and his knife pressed under my chin. His flesh was hot and the blade was cold, ‘cept where it nicked my skin. Anyroads, I took him all in, let him work me till he came. Felt his legs shaking and his grip on the knife go loose. When he slid out of my mouth I ripped that knife from him and used it good. Weren’t much left that looked like a man by the time I finished.
When I kill now, I’m as neat as a pin. Comes with practice I reckon. Like the way I talk. Some ladies don’t mind none but there’s others don’t fancy being f***ed by CharTown scum. If I have to, I can talk like a gentleman from the First Circle, pretty as you please. Most times I don’t even have to think real hard about it, ‘cepting if I’m tired. Or maybe in the middle of a good, hard f*** I’ll yell out something straight from the gutter. But then, I reckon even the finest lady don’t really care at that point anyway.
Lady Enenda Delino was one of them ladies that didn’t give a goddess f*** about the way I talked. The dirtier the better. Same as the way I f***ed her. The harder it was the more she liked it. Only problem was, sometimes she liked to ride me and you know I didn’t like that. Still, she was paying me so I kind of had to make out that I didn’t mind. But I did.
F***ing Lady Enenda was kind of like f***ing a bowl of cold porridge and lumpy porridge at that. Still, I had eaten plenty worse things. Weren’t nothing much I couldn’t force down if I had to. She was the eldest daughter of Lord Delino; First Circle but on the fringe. Desperate to move up. Reckon her father had already tried to hook at least three big fish but weren’t none of them biting so now he was getting ready to settle for something a bit less ambitious. Anyroads, Enenda was engaged to the second son of some Earl and she weren’t best pleased about it. Reckoned she could do better. She’d been paying me to f*** her for about four months. She’d rented this little house down on the Second Circle and that’s where I used to meet her, two maybe three times a week.
This particular afternoon I weren’t really in the mood, but since she was paying me…I reckon she got value for money. Anyroads, we raised enough sweat between us. I rolled off her onto my back and closed my eyes, listening to her pant. I was kind of panting too. Most times I’d just climb on board, do the job and dismount, without coming. I could do that, hold myself back. Drove some women wild, the fact that they couldn’t make me come. I reckon the Goddess herself could give me a blow job and I wouldn’t spend. I guess maybe because I’d had to kill some poor little weasel of a guy down in Fourth Circle the night before, I was feeling a little strung out. Killing always made me jumpy for a bit. Hated it. Didn’t stop me doing it though…
Anyroads, I’d pounded into Enenda that afternoon like the Thunder God himself and earned a ball buster for myself as well as her. I felt her shift on the mattress beside me and her hand come to rest against my chest.
“Goddess. Caiyd, that was spectacular.”
“Yeah.”
She began to play with the hair on my chest, pulling at it with her fingers. Goddess f***, I hated that. I swiped her hand away and opened my eyes. She pulled this face. “Why don’t you like me touching you?”
“Ain’t you in particular. Don’t like nobody touching me.”
“You’ve chosen a strange profession for someone who doesn’t like being touched.”
I shrugged. She pulled another face and her hand came back down on my chest again.
“I am paying you after all. If I want to touch you I should be able to.”
I gave her a look which should have scared the **** out of her, only it didn’t. First Circle bitch didn’t have the sense to be scared. Not that I’d ever really given her a reason to be scared of me. But I could of, if I’d wanted to…
She was sitting up now, leaning over me and running her fingers around my nipple. She was staring at my body in this hungry sort of way that made me want to pull away from her and curl up in a ball.
“You do this with other people, don’t you? Other women?”
“This?”
Enenda waved her hand. “This.”
“F***ing?”
She turned red as a beet.
“If they pay me enough, then yeah, I do this with other women. Men too,” I added, just to be nasty.
“If I paid you enough would you stop?” Her hand swooped down and closed around my prick. Hard. “I can’t stand to think that this has been inside someone else.”
“You ain’t got enough money to keep this,” I prised her fingers loose. “for yourself.”
“I hate you Caiyd.”
“Don’t bother me none if you do.”
She flounced back down against the pillows. “I’m to be married next month.”
“Yeah. I know. Congratulations.”
“I want you to kill him.”
Just like that. Out of nowhere. I kept the killing and the f***ing separate. Reckon it was better that way. Shouldn’t have been no way Enenda could have known about my other profession. Shook me up so much I couldn’t speak for a moment.
“Caiyd? Do you understand what I’ve said?”
“No. What are you talking about?”
“It’s quite simple. I want you to kill my fiancé.”
“Simple?” I managed to blurt out.
“I know it’s what you do Caiyd. You kill people.”
“How?”
“Let’s just say that I’m very good at finding out other people’s secrets. And I especially wanted to find out yours. So, let’s negotiate. What will it cost?”
I had a bad feeling about this so I gave her a price that should have made her give up the whole stupid idea. She didn’t even blink.
“Fine. That won’t be a problem. I’ll want it done before Saint Elinias’ Eve.”
“Where are you gonna get that much money from?”
“I’ve told you. It’s not a problem.”
“Okay. Then I want it all before I take the contract.”
“Fine. I’ll have it to you by next Nenonday. Will that suit?”
What could I say? I still reckoned she couldn’t lay her hands on that sort of money. In nine days time I reckoned I’d find out one way or the other.
“Sure. You give me the money and I’ll kill him for you.”
“Don’t you want to know why I want him dead?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Ain’t no business of mine.”
Enenda laughed. “Sometimes I almost think I love you Caiyd.”
“Goddess f***! I hope you ain’t killing him on account of me. You know I ain’t in love with you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She leaned across the bed to look at the pretty little gold watch she’d placed on the bedside table. “Now by my reckoning, I still have another hour left of your services.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” Dropping the watch she rolled back and then straddled me. I had to fight the urge to buck her off. “My turn on top, I think,” she purred.
I let her ride me for a few minutes before I tipped her over and lay on top of her. She weren’t too mad that I didn’t let her finish her ride. I knew what I was doing. F***ing was like killing. I mightn’t like it much, but goddess f***, I was good at it…
For the first time in my life I had a room of my own. If you’d grown up with nine brothers and sisters you’d appreciate just what that meant. At night, after I’d finished my chores I’d go up the stairs to that little room and shut the door. Then I’d sit on the bed and close my eyes and just feel it. The silence. Although small, the room was prettily furnished. There was a cupboard and a chest of drawers. A small table and chair and a single bed. The bed was covered with a quilt of blue velvet sprigged with tiny yellow star flowers. I’m sure there were many servants in the city who had nothing finer.
It was my mother’s aunt, Challa, who’d arranged for me to take up this position. She was the only servant in the house and although there was only the master to care for, Challa was finding it harder to cook and keep house. It seemed like the perfect solution. One less mouth for my parents to feed, even though I was going to, as my mother said pointedly, that notorious house. A pair of young willing hands to help Challa. And a room of my own…
My duties weren’t onerous. As Challa explained when I first arrived, the master kept odd hours. I’d been here two weeks and was yet to catch sight of him. It seemed he was out all night and sometimes most of the day as well. However, this particular day I entered the kitchen to find Challa engaged in a frenzied bout of baking.
“Master’s going to be in for supper. And most like he’ll spend the night in his own bed. Have you changed the sheets?”
I nodded. I could smell spice cakes baking and I sniffed appreciatively. Challa smiled.
“Master’s favourite.”
“You spoil him?” I teased. She was a good, kind woman, my great aunt and I had swiftly formed a close friendship with her.
“Poor lamb. I don’t think he’s had much spoiling in his life.”
I waved my hand around at the kitchen. “But he has this house?” It wasn’t a grand house, this place on the Third Circle of the city, and there wasn’t an abundance of rich things within it. But what there was, was First Circle quality. You could tell. There was money here, that much was evident.
“He’s earned this house Lina. He wasn’t born to it. Now, come over here and I’ll show you how to mix the next batch of spice cakes.”
We were sitting at the kitchen table, peeling yallow’s and giggling together like a pair of silly convent schoolgirls when Challa looked up and I saw her face light up.
“Master Caiyd. You’re early.”
“I could smell them spice cakes all the way up to Pesipine road, Challa. Ain’t no way I could resist em any longer.”
I turned my head. He was nothing like I’d expected. For one thing, he spoke like the lowest CharTown guttersnipe. For another, he was beautiful. His short hair was all butter and cream and honey mixed together. His brows and lashes were a darker gold against his pale skin. And his eyes…like smoke and the sea and a thunderstorm all at once. Heavy lidded and sleepy looking. At least until he caught sight of me and I saw his expression turn shuttered and wary.
“Who is this?”
“Remember you said I could get someone in to help me, Master Caiyd? On account of my rheumatism making it so hard for me to get up and down those stairs? Well, this is my niece’s girl, Lina. She’s come to stay and give me a hand.”
For a moment he just looked at me. I looked back. Truth to tell, I probably couldn’t have looked away. He was just so beautiful. And then he smiled and he became impossibly more beautiful.
“Lina,” he said. He had a soft, deep, sort of blurry voice that I wanted to wrap around myself like a cloak. I must have been staring at him like one of the Touched because Challa frowned at me.
“Make a curtsey, Lina.”
“Oh.” I jumped up and ducked a curtsey. “How do you do Master Caiyd.”
“I reckon I do well enough. How do you do, Mem Lina?”
I blushed. “Oh. I’m very well, sir. Thank you, sir.” Goddess. I was babbling like a fool. I shut my mouth.
“Call me Caiyd.” He directed look at Challa. “Like I told your aunt there, I ain’t no one’s master. But she won’t listen to me.” He sidled over to the stove and with a quick flicking grin at Challa, picked up a hot spice cake, juggling it in his fingers and blowing on it to cool it down. He popped it in his mouth, then filched another.
“Master Caiyd!. You won’t eat your supper.”
“Reckon there ain’t no chance of that happening.” With one more wicked smile he took another cake and headed out of the kitchen.
I stared after him before turning rather dazed eyes on Challa.
“So that is the master?” I said weakly.
“Aye.”
“He seems…nice.” A more inadequate word I couldn’t find to describe him.
Challa gave me a hard look. Then her face softened somewhat. “Aye. He’s beautiful, isn’t he? But not for you my love. In more ways than you could imagine. Now, let’s get back to preparing supper.”
We sat back at the table and for a time neither of us spoke. Then Challa put down her paring knife with a sigh. “One thing, Lina love. Master…well sometimes he has bad dreams. If you hear anything tonight, best put your pillow over your ears and ignore it.”
“I’m not sure I…”
“It’s best to stay away. Let him dream it out. Caiyd doesn’t always know where he is when he wakes up. He might hurt you, not that he’d ever mean to. It’s just best to leave him be, even though sometimes it might break your heart to hear him.”
I swallowed and nodded. I wasn’t really sure what she meant. But I found out later…
The main character is both a prostitute and an assassain from the slums, so I believe the way he speaks is relevant to just who and what he is. He is going to accept a contract that should be a straightforward killing but he is in for a nasty surprise...
Caiyd
One thing I know about women…they’re all suckers for a pretty face. Don’t matter none how rough the inside is, long as it looks all bright and shiny on the outside. Bitches. All of em. Still, if it weren’t for them bitches I guess I wouldn’t be where I am now. Still be crawling around in the gutters of CharTown. Giving it up to any ******* who was bigger than me, or stronger.
See where my pretty face has got me now. I got my own house. Even got me a cook. Yeah, I get to eat whatever I want. Times were when all I used to dream about was food. I got money too, although sometimes I reckon there ain’t never gonna be enough money to let me forget…
That don’t matter. What I was then, it ain’t something I think about much. ‘Cept maybe when I’m alone in the dark. Anyroads, that don’t happen often. I ain’t alone much, if you take my drift. There’s always someone who wants to be f***ed. Always someone who wants somebody dead. So between the killing and the f***ing, I’m kept pretty busy. And it ain’t just women neither. There’s plenty of men who fancy a piece of me, ‘cept they have to pay triple my going rate to make me roll over for em. I don’t like nobody on top…makes me remember stuff I don’t want to remember…
So, f***ing’s okay, long as I get to be on top. And killing, I don’t pay that no never mind. That’s easier than f***ing. I was ten when I killed my first man. That’s one of them things I try not to remember…me kneeling in the dirt with his prick shoved right to the back of my throat and his knife pressed under my chin. His flesh was hot and the blade was cold, ‘cept where it nicked my skin. Anyroads, I took him all in, let him work me till he came. Felt his legs shaking and his grip on the knife go loose. When he slid out of my mouth I ripped that knife from him and used it good. Weren’t much left that looked like a man by the time I finished.
When I kill now, I’m as neat as a pin. Comes with practice I reckon. Like the way I talk. Some ladies don’t mind none but there’s others don’t fancy being f***ed by CharTown scum. If I have to, I can talk like a gentleman from the First Circle, pretty as you please. Most times I don’t even have to think real hard about it, ‘cepting if I’m tired. Or maybe in the middle of a good, hard f*** I’ll yell out something straight from the gutter. But then, I reckon even the finest lady don’t really care at that point anyway.
Lady Enenda Delino was one of them ladies that didn’t give a goddess f*** about the way I talked. The dirtier the better. Same as the way I f***ed her. The harder it was the more she liked it. Only problem was, sometimes she liked to ride me and you know I didn’t like that. Still, she was paying me so I kind of had to make out that I didn’t mind. But I did.
F***ing Lady Enenda was kind of like f***ing a bowl of cold porridge and lumpy porridge at that. Still, I had eaten plenty worse things. Weren’t nothing much I couldn’t force down if I had to. She was the eldest daughter of Lord Delino; First Circle but on the fringe. Desperate to move up. Reckon her father had already tried to hook at least three big fish but weren’t none of them biting so now he was getting ready to settle for something a bit less ambitious. Anyroads, Enenda was engaged to the second son of some Earl and she weren’t best pleased about it. Reckoned she could do better. She’d been paying me to f*** her for about four months. She’d rented this little house down on the Second Circle and that’s where I used to meet her, two maybe three times a week.
This particular afternoon I weren’t really in the mood, but since she was paying me…I reckon she got value for money. Anyroads, we raised enough sweat between us. I rolled off her onto my back and closed my eyes, listening to her pant. I was kind of panting too. Most times I’d just climb on board, do the job and dismount, without coming. I could do that, hold myself back. Drove some women wild, the fact that they couldn’t make me come. I reckon the Goddess herself could give me a blow job and I wouldn’t spend. I guess maybe because I’d had to kill some poor little weasel of a guy down in Fourth Circle the night before, I was feeling a little strung out. Killing always made me jumpy for a bit. Hated it. Didn’t stop me doing it though…
Anyroads, I’d pounded into Enenda that afternoon like the Thunder God himself and earned a ball buster for myself as well as her. I felt her shift on the mattress beside me and her hand come to rest against my chest.
“Goddess. Caiyd, that was spectacular.”
“Yeah.”
She began to play with the hair on my chest, pulling at it with her fingers. Goddess f***, I hated that. I swiped her hand away and opened my eyes. She pulled this face. “Why don’t you like me touching you?”
“Ain’t you in particular. Don’t like nobody touching me.”
“You’ve chosen a strange profession for someone who doesn’t like being touched.”
I shrugged. She pulled another face and her hand came back down on my chest again.
“I am paying you after all. If I want to touch you I should be able to.”
I gave her a look which should have scared the **** out of her, only it didn’t. First Circle bitch didn’t have the sense to be scared. Not that I’d ever really given her a reason to be scared of me. But I could of, if I’d wanted to…
She was sitting up now, leaning over me and running her fingers around my nipple. She was staring at my body in this hungry sort of way that made me want to pull away from her and curl up in a ball.
“You do this with other people, don’t you? Other women?”
“This?”
Enenda waved her hand. “This.”
“F***ing?”
She turned red as a beet.
“If they pay me enough, then yeah, I do this with other women. Men too,” I added, just to be nasty.
“If I paid you enough would you stop?” Her hand swooped down and closed around my prick. Hard. “I can’t stand to think that this has been inside someone else.”
“You ain’t got enough money to keep this,” I prised her fingers loose. “for yourself.”
“I hate you Caiyd.”
“Don’t bother me none if you do.”
She flounced back down against the pillows. “I’m to be married next month.”
“Yeah. I know. Congratulations.”
“I want you to kill him.”
Just like that. Out of nowhere. I kept the killing and the f***ing separate. Reckon it was better that way. Shouldn’t have been no way Enenda could have known about my other profession. Shook me up so much I couldn’t speak for a moment.
“Caiyd? Do you understand what I’ve said?”
“No. What are you talking about?”
“It’s quite simple. I want you to kill my fiancé.”
“Simple?” I managed to blurt out.
“I know it’s what you do Caiyd. You kill people.”
“How?”
“Let’s just say that I’m very good at finding out other people’s secrets. And I especially wanted to find out yours. So, let’s negotiate. What will it cost?”
I had a bad feeling about this so I gave her a price that should have made her give up the whole stupid idea. She didn’t even blink.
“Fine. That won’t be a problem. I’ll want it done before Saint Elinias’ Eve.”
“Where are you gonna get that much money from?”
“I’ve told you. It’s not a problem.”
“Okay. Then I want it all before I take the contract.”
“Fine. I’ll have it to you by next Nenonday. Will that suit?”
What could I say? I still reckoned she couldn’t lay her hands on that sort of money. In nine days time I reckoned I’d find out one way or the other.
“Sure. You give me the money and I’ll kill him for you.”
“Don’t you want to know why I want him dead?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Ain’t no business of mine.”
Enenda laughed. “Sometimes I almost think I love you Caiyd.”
“Goddess f***! I hope you ain’t killing him on account of me. You know I ain’t in love with you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She leaned across the bed to look at the pretty little gold watch she’d placed on the bedside table. “Now by my reckoning, I still have another hour left of your services.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” Dropping the watch she rolled back and then straddled me. I had to fight the urge to buck her off. “My turn on top, I think,” she purred.
I let her ride me for a few minutes before I tipped her over and lay on top of her. She weren’t too mad that I didn’t let her finish her ride. I knew what I was doing. F***ing was like killing. I mightn’t like it much, but goddess f***, I was good at it…
Lina
It was my mother’s aunt, Challa, who’d arranged for me to take up this position. She was the only servant in the house and although there was only the master to care for, Challa was finding it harder to cook and keep house. It seemed like the perfect solution. One less mouth for my parents to feed, even though I was going to, as my mother said pointedly, that notorious house. A pair of young willing hands to help Challa. And a room of my own…
My duties weren’t onerous. As Challa explained when I first arrived, the master kept odd hours. I’d been here two weeks and was yet to catch sight of him. It seemed he was out all night and sometimes most of the day as well. However, this particular day I entered the kitchen to find Challa engaged in a frenzied bout of baking.
“Master’s going to be in for supper. And most like he’ll spend the night in his own bed. Have you changed the sheets?”
I nodded. I could smell spice cakes baking and I sniffed appreciatively. Challa smiled.
“Master’s favourite.”
“You spoil him?” I teased. She was a good, kind woman, my great aunt and I had swiftly formed a close friendship with her.
“Poor lamb. I don’t think he’s had much spoiling in his life.”
I waved my hand around at the kitchen. “But he has this house?” It wasn’t a grand house, this place on the Third Circle of the city, and there wasn’t an abundance of rich things within it. But what there was, was First Circle quality. You could tell. There was money here, that much was evident.
“He’s earned this house Lina. He wasn’t born to it. Now, come over here and I’ll show you how to mix the next batch of spice cakes.”
We were sitting at the kitchen table, peeling yallow’s and giggling together like a pair of silly convent schoolgirls when Challa looked up and I saw her face light up.
“Master Caiyd. You’re early.”
“I could smell them spice cakes all the way up to Pesipine road, Challa. Ain’t no way I could resist em any longer.”
I turned my head. He was nothing like I’d expected. For one thing, he spoke like the lowest CharTown guttersnipe. For another, he was beautiful. His short hair was all butter and cream and honey mixed together. His brows and lashes were a darker gold against his pale skin. And his eyes…like smoke and the sea and a thunderstorm all at once. Heavy lidded and sleepy looking. At least until he caught sight of me and I saw his expression turn shuttered and wary.
“Who is this?”
“Remember you said I could get someone in to help me, Master Caiyd? On account of my rheumatism making it so hard for me to get up and down those stairs? Well, this is my niece’s girl, Lina. She’s come to stay and give me a hand.”
For a moment he just looked at me. I looked back. Truth to tell, I probably couldn’t have looked away. He was just so beautiful. And then he smiled and he became impossibly more beautiful.
“Lina,” he said. He had a soft, deep, sort of blurry voice that I wanted to wrap around myself like a cloak. I must have been staring at him like one of the Touched because Challa frowned at me.
“Make a curtsey, Lina.”
“Oh.” I jumped up and ducked a curtsey. “How do you do Master Caiyd.”
“I reckon I do well enough. How do you do, Mem Lina?”
I blushed. “Oh. I’m very well, sir. Thank you, sir.” Goddess. I was babbling like a fool. I shut my mouth.
“Call me Caiyd.” He directed look at Challa. “Like I told your aunt there, I ain’t no one’s master. But she won’t listen to me.” He sidled over to the stove and with a quick flicking grin at Challa, picked up a hot spice cake, juggling it in his fingers and blowing on it to cool it down. He popped it in his mouth, then filched another.
“Master Caiyd!. You won’t eat your supper.”
“Reckon there ain’t no chance of that happening.” With one more wicked smile he took another cake and headed out of the kitchen.
I stared after him before turning rather dazed eyes on Challa.
“So that is the master?” I said weakly.
“Aye.”
“He seems…nice.” A more inadequate word I couldn’t find to describe him.
Challa gave me a hard look. Then her face softened somewhat. “Aye. He’s beautiful, isn’t he? But not for you my love. In more ways than you could imagine. Now, let’s get back to preparing supper.”
We sat back at the table and for a time neither of us spoke. Then Challa put down her paring knife with a sigh. “One thing, Lina love. Master…well sometimes he has bad dreams. If you hear anything tonight, best put your pillow over your ears and ignore it.”
“I’m not sure I…”
“It’s best to stay away. Let him dream it out. Caiyd doesn’t always know where he is when he wakes up. He might hurt you, not that he’d ever mean to. It’s just best to leave him be, even though sometimes it might break your heart to hear him.”
I swallowed and nodded. I wasn’t really sure what she meant. But I found out later…
